


The Living Infinite

by JanecShannon



Series: Down Where It's Wetter [3]
Category: Atlantis (UK TV)
Genre: But Mac doesn't know that, Gen, Grief/Mourning, It's better than it sounds I promise, Jason isn't actually dead, Mac-centric, Parent-Child Relationship, dealing with tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 07:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10213004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanecShannon/pseuds/JanecShannon
Summary: Mac deals with the grief of losing Jason.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I'm converting the previous Mac-centric stories into a series. It was always the plan for these to evolve into something larger and now that we're finally getting there (and it looks like it might actually happen), I'm going to bite the bullet and do it. Thank [girlwhowasntthere](http://girlwhowasntthere.tumblr.com) for feeding the zombunnies and betaing. 
> 
> The title comes from a Jules Verne quote in Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, which I remain eternally convinced is Jason's favorite book. 
> 
> _"The sea is everything. It covers seven tenths of the terrestrial globe. Its breath is pure and healthy. It is an immense desert, where man is never lonely, for he feels life stirring on all sides. The sea is only the embodiment of a supernatural and wonderful existence. It is nothing but love and emotion; it is the Living Infinite."_  
>  \- Jules Verne, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea

_We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of Jason Stephen Caldwell. A vibrant young man who was taken from us far too soon.... ~~~~_

The words haunt him almost as much as the memories of the horrible day they lost him. It's shocking Mac retained anything of the funeral. Even a week after the event, he is still fairly numb, all but disconnected from the world. Somehow the words have burned themselves into his brain, though.

The day Jason died is, by far, the worst of Mac's life. The days that followed were a dark spiral downward until, finally, he'd retreated to his mother's old house. Technically his house now, but he'd never felt at home here. The only reason he hadn't sold it after her death was Jason.

This house had been one of the few roots Jason had ever laid down. The lad had never been particularly materialistic, his line of work had him moving from place to place, often with nothing more than what he could carry in a suitcase. Jason never seemed to mind, he'd grown up mostly living that way with Mac anyway.

But this house.

When Jason had gone off to college at 18, Mac's mother had promised him he would always have a home here. Mac was loathe to make a liar of Edie MacDowell. Money wasn't really an issue for them; both Jason and Mac were well-known in their fields, Mac owned a few patents from development of the mini-sub technology, and even Edie had had her own sources of independent income that had passed to him. There was just no reason not to simply hold on to the house.

Now, though. Now the house feels dead in a way it hadn't even after his mother's death.

.oO*Oo.

He stands in the doorway to Jason's office. The boy had spent more time here than his bedroom, and it shows. Pictures with colleagues and of dig sites, his diplomas, a bookcase full of well-loved books. If there was a room in the house that breathed Jason, this was it.

Mac had never told him it used to be his father's room as well, although Aeson had called it his “sacred space” and painted symbols on the wall that were vaguely similar to those found in a temple in Athens.

He'd had to have the room redone after Aeson had died. Painted over the symbols and redone the floor with hardwood instead of carpet.

A part of him wishes he hadn't. There were so few pictures of Aeson, and maybe this would have given Jason the chance to feel like he knew his father. Maybe having Aeson's room would have given Jason a place on dry land to safely say goodbye. Maybe, if Mac had just left the room alone, Jason wouldn't have sought his father's grave.

Maybe, just maybe, if Mac had just left the room alone, Jason wouldn't be dead.

But after Aeson's death, Mac had been _so angry_. He'd been hurt, longing for his best friend and left with a child he hadn't wanted. He wasn't a family man. His life goals had never included a woman or a baby on his hip. Jason had been a sunny child, adventurous but easy to please, yet for that brief time, Mac hadn't wanted him. He'd wanted his best friend back, and the child had just served as a reminder of all he no longer had.

He's ashamed of how he had behaved, now. His mother's anger had been cold as ice. _“You are not the only one in this to have lost someone,”_ she'd told him. _“Do not forsake the living for the dead.”_

Edie had taken Jason to visit the Scotland house after that, leaving Mac to put himself back together. Giles had shown up sometime after they left, no doubt sent by Edie to check on him.  He had sent Mac outside to use up his anger in healthy way: chopping wood.

Instead, Mac had found a bottle of whiskey and taken the axe to Aeson's room. He'd tried to eradicate everything but his anger had made his aim poor (and, to be fair, he didn't exactly use an axe all that often even sober). No matter how many times he swung at the symbols, he couldn't hit them, they were simply too small of a target. So he'd gone after the altar instead.

Giles had found him on his knees amongst the wreckage some time later, axe still clasped loosely in his fingers. It had been cathartic, if nothing else. Giles had helped him repair the holes in the drywall and repaint. They'd wound up needing to replace the carpet as well, too many slivers had worked their way into the fibers and there was just no saving it. 

That was when they'd found the symbols on the floor beneath the carpet. Who knows how Aeson had gotten them there without ripping the floor up as Mac had been doing. Perhaps Edie had let him? Mac never found out, but it hardly matters now.

He'd called his mother to apologize when the room was finished. She had brought Jason back and he'd spent the next twenty years trying to forgive himself for his behavior. Jason was too young and likely too caught up in his own loss to remember Mac's behavior at the time. He'd certainly never said anything about it.

But sometimes, in the dark of night, Mac wonders if a part of that time had stuck with him subconsciously. If, in the back of Jason's mind, a voice always whispered that he was an unwanted burden.

He wasn't. He _wasn't_.

In the five years he'd helped raise him before Aeson's death, he'd come to love the boy. But it had been a shock going from _friend-who-helps-out_ to _sole-parent_ , and he had reacted poorly. Mac had just been so angry at Aeson's perceived abandonment.

Mac's reaction to Jason's death has been vastly different. Instead of destroying Jason's room, he can't even bring himself to enter it. Instead of anger, he just feels empty, tired, and untethered. He just can't seem to figure out what he's meant to do next because everything seems so pointless. His boy is dead and he doesn't know how to move on from that.

Mac turns away from the doorway. Today will not be the day he brings himself to enter Jason's space.

He makes his way to his mother's room instead. She's been gone long enough that the presence of her things brings him more comfort than pain. He surrounds himself with her memory, wraps it around his aching soul like a blanket.

Here, in the safety of his mother's room, Mac buries his head in his hands and quietly cries.


	2. Chapter 2

Today would have been Jason's twenty-seventh birthday.

Mac had specifically not gone to the pub. Travis knows him too well. Knows what today is. Had told him earlier in the week he'd be raising a glass in Jason's memory, if Mac was of a mind to join him.

Mac wasn't when he offered, and he still isn't now the day is actually here. He finds it hard to share these moments with anyone else, like somehow Jason is his pain and his alone. He finds their grief intrusive, they do not miss Jason as much as _he_ does. They were sad for a time, but their worlds didn't end in a single, terrible moment, and he hates them for it.

He hates them for being okay when he cannot be.

Jason had been taken in the prime of his youth. Mac remembers twenty-seven as such a glorious age. Old enough to be established in an enjoyable career but young enough to still have plenty of time to accomplish your goals.

Jason would never experience any of that.

They hadn't even had a body for a proper funeral. Some of Jason’s old colleagues had gathered for a memorial where they released a wreath into the sea, but it wasn’t the same thing. Jason had always joked that when he died, he wanted to be buried at sea, and it was a shame no government would allow that sort of thing anymore. Mac took no comfort from the fact that Jason at least ended up where he wanted.

He finds himself making his way to Jason's office again. A thin layer of dust has built up and coats everything, the room utterly untouched. It wasn't unusual. When Jason had been alive, he'd often spent months without coming to this house when he was on a project. The dust in the room now feels more final, though.

He isn't sure why, but today it feels like something has finally broken. A wall has come down and he is able to pass the door. He raises his foot, steps forward, but hesitates before his heel touches the floor. Can he do this? Is he ready, on today of all days, to pierce the sanctity of this room?

He is afraid. Afraid that once he allows himself to enter, once he breaches the invisible barrier that has kept him out until now, the all-consuming rage he had felt after Aeson's death will again flood him. What if he destroys Jason's room the way he had Aeson's? This is all he has left, and he would never forgive himself if he destroyed it.

The choice is taken from him, however. He has left his foot hovering too long and losses his balance as a result. His foot lands on the reclaimed driftwood flooring inside the room.

Done is done though, he figures, and brings his other foot even with the first. It has taken him nearly six months, but he has finally brought himself to enter. It feels like something has broken inside him, the loss of Jason suddenly feels just as fresh as looking through a monitor at the broken sub.

A knock at the front door interrupts his wallowing. He debates ignoring it, but they knock again quickly, frantically. It snags his attention.

He's surprised to see one of the biologists who'd come to help after Jason’s crash. Andy looks disheveled, his hair sticking every which way, his shirt buttoned wrong and only half-tucked. He doesn't wait for an invite before he pushes past Mac into the house, brandishing a flash drive like it is the Olympic Torch.

“Andy!”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just- I know what today is but- Listen, you have to see this.”

Mac sighs. Today is not a good day for this. Jason's birthday is second only to the actual anniversary of his death (although he hasn't actually gotten to the first anniversary of Jason's death, he already knows it will be bad). He can't bring himself to kick the lad out though, not in the state he's in. It's nothing short of a miracle the boy didn't crash his car on the way over.

“Sit down, lad,” he sighs. There's been enough death and... the boy may not have been able to save Jason, but he'd dropped everything and come when called. That had to count for something.

“No. No, where's your computer? You _have_ to see this.”

“What is it?” He starts walking to the dining room where his laptop has sat mostly unused. He hopes it’s charged; he's not _entirely_ sure where the charger is.

“I was going through the videos of Jason's crash-”

Mac freezes midstep. _Why?_ he wants to demand. _Why would you put yourself through that on today of all days?_ But everyone grieves differently, he reminds himself, suddenly feeling very tired.

“-and I noticed something. You remember when Jason co-piloted with me for that year after I first got my license?”

Mac did. Jason had been a good pilot. His name had meant something; the chance to have piloted with him, to have trained under him, for even just a year, was nothing to scoff at on someone’s CV. Andy had been having trouble breaking into the industry, so Jason had offered him the chance to work on a project with him. It had been kind, something Jason didn't have to do but he'd done it anyway.

A band squeezes around Mac's chest at the thought. There had been a reason Jason made friends so easily.

“Yes,” he gasps. Andy either ignores or doesn't notice the long delay and strangled tone of voice.

“Jason taught me some stuff. You know, in our downtime, just for fun. It interested him.”

Mac nods and resumes walking to the dining room. It had, yes. That tends to happen when your father dies hunting for something.

Andy rushes ahead of him to the computer and boots it up, plugging the drive in as it finishes booting. He waves an impatient hand at the keyboard for Mac to enter his password.

He pulls up a video, Jason's sub is the main focus but he points to a rock in the corner. “Watch that,” he instructs and hits play.

Mac watches, both to avoid looking at the sunken sub and also because Andy has piqued his curiosity. Something catches his eye, but it's gone before he can figure out what. He pauses the video and rewinds several seconds. “Writing,” he mutters to himself, “that's _writing_.”

“And!” Andy snatches the mouse and forwards several minutes. The sub taking the video turns, and it's only on screen for a moment, but there's a doorway. A wall really, just with an archway in it, fallen flat but that isn't what catches Mac's eye.

Above the door is a pair of bull horns eerily similar to the necklace Aeson had given Jason.

 _There are no coincidences,_ Edie MacDowell’s voice whispers in the back of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gasp! Mac what are you doing?! Where I could I possibly be going with this? *shifty eyes*
> 
>  
> 
> So it's been pointed out to me that I'm not overly clear on what, exactly, Jason and Mac actually _do_ for a living. It's pretty clear to me that Jason in no way, shape, or form knows enough about Ancient Greece to be an archaeologist or anything like that. The way I see it, Mac pretty much invented the mini-sub technology because of that money isn't really an issue for him. Jason is/was one of the best pilots out there (as was Aeson) because magic/Poseidon. Jason works as a pilot for both deep see marine biologists as well as archaeologists (and generally anyone who has reasons to be looking at things deep under the ocean) because he can get the videos they need. That's why he's got friends in both fields. 
> 
> Clear as mud? Good, glad I could help.


End file.
